


Serendipity

by rikkafish



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff, M/M, Past Character Death, sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-20
Updated: 2012-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-12 13:03:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/491321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rikkafish/pseuds/rikkafish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John finds Karkat's wallet after not seeing him for five years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Serendipity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [catlockholmes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catlockholmes/gifts).



John was seven minutes late for work when he burst into the library, loud and clumsy. His immediate apologies were quickly silenced with a sharp 'sh!' and he clamped his mouth shut as he followed his boss back into the stacks.

"Traffic was really bad today," John said softly and as conversationally as possible. He wasn't late often, but his boss could be kind of a hardass. Luckily, he was pretty sure she liked him.

"Suuuuuuuure," Vriska said, one eyebrow raised. "What's your real excuse?"

John snorted a laugh and covered his mouth. "I got new sheets and they're really comfortable," he admitted. "And my roommate, okay, I couldn't help it, we got this new toaster and he doesn't know how to use it so I 'fixed' the settings for him and I just had to make sure--"

"Did he at least burn the hell out of his poptarts?" she asked, crossing his arms.

"I thought he was going to burn the apartment down," John confirmed with a sage nod. "After that, I had no choice but to come to work, I thought he was going to slice me in half with one of those stupid swords of his for ruining his precious blueberry poptarts."

"Whatever. Don't let it happen again," Vriska said, smacking his shoulder. "You're lucky I like you or I might have had to kill you and fed you to my pet spider. Get to work!"

John rubbed where she'd hit him and ducked his head. "I don't think a tarantula's big enough to eat a whole human," he said as he started out back to the main area.

"You would have been food for months for Mindfang," Vriska called after him.

John rolled his eyes and went to start sorting books. He was 26 years old and working at a local library. He liked his job well enough, it wasn't ideal, but he liked to entertain the kids with cheap magic tricks and he could borrow as many movies as he wanted from their small collection (which he was still attempting to improve) so he wasn't complaining. He'd gone to university for a couple of years, studying film, but never graduated. He preferred not to think of those times. They had been good at first, especially one bright little angry star amongst the chaos that had been his last year at university.

He grimaced. He'd lost touch with the angry star and while he wasn't a bad memory, he wasn't a good one either. John sometimes hated the way he'd just disappeared from the man's life, but it had been unavoidable.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts as he put books back on the shelf, ordering them neatly according to the Dewey Decimal System and the alphabet. WAL came before WAT and 183 came before 187. It was simple work and it was mindless and it helped pay the bills. It wasn't his dream job, but that was okay. Not everyone could live out their lives and get their dream jobs and dream houses. John had a decent life. He had good friends, a good sister, co-workers he got along with, a job and an apartment he actually liked, and after 5 years he was finally starting to feel himself again.

He was putting books away in the young adult section when he noticed a wallet on the floor near one of the plushy armchairs available for guests to read in. He went over and picked it up, glancing around for an owner, but the only person around was a small girl and her older sister. Not exactly leather wallet toting types.

John decided he'd just look inside for an ID and see if they were still around in the library somewhere. He looked at the wallet. It was worn leather, clearly well-used for quite a few years, but plain. Nothing decorating the outside except a small set of stamped initials in the corner on one side. SV. Huh. Not a brand of wallet John recognized, but he wasn't exactly one to keep in-the-know about wallets.

He flipped it open and found the ID fairly quickly, and as soon as he saw the face and name of the wallet's owner, he snapped it shut, eyes wide.

No. Hell no. This was not happening.

John opened the wallet again, peering at the ID.

Karkat Vantas' naturally disgruntled expression stared back at him, his dark brown hair messy as ever, looking older than John remembered him, but no more happy.

"Holy shit," he said quietly. The two girls turned to look at him, eyes wide. John looked back at them. "Don't tell anyone I said that," he added quickly before dashing off to the front counter, stuffing the wallet into his pocket as he went.

Vriska was leaning over the counter, flipping through a magazine that looked like it had been in the stacks for ages. She licked a finger and turned the page, not glancing up as John came over.

"Hey, did you know--"

"Don’t care," John interrupted in a hissing whisper. Vriska looked up, annoyance written clearly on her face, but John ignored that too. "Have you seen a guy? Angry, short, like maybe five feet, kind of Mexican but spends too much time inside and brown hair that looks like it doesn’t get brushed that often?"

Vriska stood up straighter, closing the magazine. "What? I don’t know. When was he here?" she asked. Her tone gave away that she had seen someone exactly like that, though.

"Okay, look, I just need to know if he’s still here," John pleaded quietly. Something was telling him to not tell her about the wallet. She’d have to take it from him and keep it in the secure lost and found, and then John might miss when Karkat came back, looking for his wallet. Somehow, the idea of missing the chance to see Karkat again was upsetting.

Vriska seemed to sense the desperation in his tone, and her annoyance turned to a bit of confusion. "Okay, yeah. He was here," she admitted. "I don’t know. Left about ten minutes before you got here? Checked out some cheesy romance novel."

John looked over his shoulder at the open area, tables spread out in even rows. There were a couple of people sitting at one table with one book open between them, but it was mostly dead. The library didn’t get a lot of action. Maybe that meant he could go home early.

He really doubted it, though. Vriska was kind of a hard ass.

"Okay. That’s fine," he said, nodding. "Sorry. Let me know if you see him." Vriska nodded, one eyebrow still neatly raised as John got back to work.

\--

John managed to get through the work day, but he was distracted the entire time, glancing at the door every five seconds in case Karkat came back looking for his wallet. He never came back, though, and when John got home and flopped down onto his bed, he still had the wallet in his pocket.

He rolled onto his back and pulled the wallet out again. He looked it over. It didn’t look any different than it had before, but there was something vaguely familiar about it. Like Karkat had had it before, when they’d known each other still. He frowned slightly and ran his fingers over the soft leather. He wondered what SV stood for. Looking closer, it seemed like it had been added by an amateur. He couldn’t remember if it had been there before.

He wasn’t going to go through the wallet, not entirely. He did open it again to look at the picture one more time, though. Karkat stared back at him, eyes irritated and expression as flat as possible. It was kind of an unnatural look for him, like the DMV employee had asked him to stop scowling or something. He looked a bit older than what John remembered, but still very clearly him, with his long nose and soft mouth and angular jaw. He wasn’t the most gorgeous thing John had ever laid eyes on, but even now he found himself unable to take his eyes away from the man he considered beautiful in every way.

Not a lot of people would have called Karkat beautiful. He wasn’t ugly; just an average looking guy with the the most incredibly prickly personality that John had ever encountered. He was pretty sure Karkat had hated him at first, and truthfully, John hadn’t been Karkat’s biggest fan either. They’d had the same major, though: film studies. It lead to them having more than one class together by complete chance.

Then John had seen Karkat with his friend, a tall, lanky fellow with hair worse than Karkat’s. He’d overheard the conversation between the two, and it had changed John’s look on the man.

There had been a lot of curse words and angry hissing on Karkat’s part, with a lot of low, calm reassurances from the taller man, who later John found out to be named Gamzee, but Gamzee hadn’t eaten that day and Karkat was worried about him and had given him some money to get some food. Then he’d actually accepted a hug from Gamzee, something John had wondered if Karkat was even capable of.

They’d become closer after that, with Karkat grudgingly accepting John’s endless barrage of friendship and John laughing off all of Karkat’s long, monologuing insults. They’d shared pizza and movie nights and homework and everything had been great and John had made his first friend at university and he was happy.

Then Karkat had changed, and John noticed some changes within himself. It had started with a dream that had left a wet spot on his boxers and a lot of awkward fumbling, flirting, and accidental touches later, it had all cumulated into a really terrible first kiss and a lot of laughing about how stupid and silly they’d been. Well, a lot of nervous laughing on John’s part. Karkat had mostly smiled, the slight upturn of lips looking almost foreign on his face, and shrugged, unusually quiet for once in his life.

The following months had been really great for John. He smiled slightly at the grumpy-faced man in the ID picture, remembering them fondly. Of course, they’d been ruined when...

No. He wasn’t going to think of that. It hurt less to think about, but leaving Karkat the way he had, without a word, still stung a bit. He knew he had to do something with the wallet he’d found. He should just turn it over to Vriska and be done with it. Avoid the front desk until the wallet had been returned to its owner, and then hope Karkat never came back to the library.

It was the coward’s way out, honestly, and John knew it. Maybe he should just act normal. Smile when he saw Karkat, say things like "Long time, no see", and have brief, awkward conversation before returning to their separate lives. It wasn’t a great option either and would probably leave both parties feeling uncomfortable (or maybe not? Who knew where Karkat was emotionally these days) but it would get the job done and John wouldn’t have to feel like a scaredy-cat, too afraid to face his past fuck ups to even do his job properly. It wasn’t who he was, not really.

He was still staring at the wallet when Dave poked his head in to inquire about pizza, and John was sufficiently distracted by greasy food and video games the rest of the night. By the time he was climbing into bed again, this time for sleep, he still had an uncomfortable niggling at the back of his mind, like he was still doing something wrong.

\--

John’s first thought upon waking was about Karkat.

Well, no. His first thought was the remnants of his dream, something about clowns and Disneyland and an alien that looked like Snoopy. His second thought wasn’t even about Karkat. The light from the sun was shining in his eyes and he cursed it quietly for waking him up as he rolled over and buried his face in his pillow.

It was then he thought of Karkat. The wallet was still on his bedside table, waiting for something to be done with it. John knew he couldn’t keep it forever, but he wasn’t sure if just leaving it in the lost and found was what he really wanted to do. He felt like he was missing an opportunity for something. Something like making everything up to Karkat, or at least explaining what happened.

He was sure Karkat had had no idea what happened to John. He’d been too afraid to tell his family and friends that he was gay, and had kept Karkat a well-guarded secret. To them, he was just a classmate he spent a little extra time with sometimes. No one would think to tell just a classmate about John’s break down.

He rolled back over, blinking his eyes in the sunlight still being filtered through shades and curtains. He looked at the wallet, sitting innocently on top of the book John was trying to read but didn’t have the attention span for, and suddenly it occurred to him. The wallet was actually the perfect opportunity to at least explain to Karkat what had happened. It was the least he could do.

He sat up, remembering last time he’d decided he had to talk to Karkat, explain himself. He’d been feeling better than he had in months, and he’d gone to Karkat’s old apartment only to find that it was occupied by new tenants, a newly married couple renting their first place together. They’d asked why John was there, and John had just walked away. He couldn’t even explain that an old friend had lived there.

John grabbed the wallet and opened it again. It had been renewed only a few months before, so the address had to be good. He smiled slightly, feeling a bit anxious but hopeful.

It took him most of the day to work up the nerve to look up directions to Karkat’s house, going back and forth several times on his decision, and finally coming up with something he could say that might earn him some forgiveness and sucked it up and opened his browser to Google Maps.

It wasn’t until he was showered, dressed, and on his way out the door, wallet safely tucked into his jacket pocket, that it occurred to him that Karkat might not want an explanation, or even care after this long. They hadn’t been together long, though it had been great, and John had just up and left. He’d probably come up with his own story, maybe something to comfort himself in the days after.

John knew that despite Karkat’s angry outward appearance, he was actually kind of a softie. He had liked it when John touched his hair, and his favorite place to be kissed was a little spot on his jaw that was always a bit stubbly, and he cried during romantic comedies, and he liked Hawaiian pizza better than anything, but as long as it didn’t have onions or bell peppers on it, he would eat it anyway. These were all things John remembered despite their time apart, and it wasn’t something he thought of often.

Still, though, he had to try. He couldn’t just let it go. If Karkat wanted his wallet and sent him off, so be it. John had tried and no one could fault him for that.

He had directions written on a notecard, scrawled out hurriedly in John’s messy script, and he held them in one hand as he made his way to Karkat’s house in his car. Finally, he ended up in a quiet, suburban neighborhood, nothing too fancy, but not the sort of area John expected Karkat in. He frowned slightly. Maybe Karkat had found someone to settle down with. That wasn’t something that John had thought of before. It had been years; it would have been easy for Karkat to move on and find someone new. Someone who liked houses in the suburbs.

The house he parked in front of was a two-story, painted off-white with blue trim. The leaves in the yard needed to be raked, and there was just one old, beat up Toyota Corolla in the driveway. The door was a deep red with a gold knocker that was losing its shine. John opted for the doorbell, shaking slightly from nerves and he wished he’d eaten breakfast before leaving, but at the same time, he was also pretty sure he would have thrown it up by now.

The door opened after a few moments, and Karkat was not on the other side. Instead, it was a man, tall, lanky, with wild hair.

Gamzee. Why was Karkat living in the suburbs with Gamzee?

Then he realized that they were friends. Of course Gamzee would visit. It was still kind of strange that he would answer the door, though.

He realized, after several moments, that Gamzee was just staring down at him with an easy smile and his thumbs shoved into his pockets, not saying anything. John blinked up at him.

"Hey?" he said, his voice cracking just a bit.

"Hey, brother," Gamzee said finally, since apparently he’d been given permission to speak. "You look motherfucking familiar. Do I up and know you already or is this just some serendipitous motherfucking moment where you and I meet again from a past life?"

John cleared his throat. "We used to know each other," he said. "Is Karkat around?"

"Ah, yeah, my angry brother’s all up and around here somewhere," Gamzee said, tilting his head. "You got business with him or something?"

"I found his wallet and I’d like to return it to him," John said firmly.

Gamzee held out his hand.

"And personally," John added.

Gamzee’s grin widened, and he lowered his hand. "Come on in," he said, turning to walk back inside. "If it’s my best bro you’re looking for to get all up and personal with, he’s holed up in his room like a hibernating motherfucking bear." He dropped his shoulders a bit. "A lot angrier than a bear though."

"Uh, oh. Where’s his room?" John asked. He had forgotten about Gamzee’s odd way of speaking, and wondered what he meant by ‘hibernating motherfucking bear’.

Gamzee pointed at the stairs. "First door on your motherfucking right, soul brother," he said.

John remembered why Gamzee had always weirded him out a bit. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to barging in on Karkat in his bedroom, but it appeared he had no option.

He took the stairs slowly, and found the first door on the right. He steeled himself, and knocked.

"Gamzee, I swear to fuck, if this is about that fucking waffle thing again," came a familiar, if irritated, voice, getting louder as its owner got closer to the door, and then it was flung open, and Karkat, mid-rage, came to a shuddering stop as he realized it was John and not Gamzee. His eyes widened briefly for a moment, full of shock and something else-- hope, maybe?-- but it was quickly erased by a familiar scowl.

"What in the name of all things sacred are you doing in my house?" Karkat asked, emphasis on the accusation.

"Your wallet," John choked out, his speeches rehearsed in the shower and car leaving him, because holy shit, he hadn’t even realized how much he had missed that voice. "The library." Okay, it wasn’t a complete sentence, but it got the point across.

That seemed to throw Karkat off. He faltered for a moment, then stuck out his hand. "Well? Hand it over and get out," he said. "Why the fuck did you bring it out to me for? Doesn’t the library have a lost and found or something? What the hell possessed you to not only look inside my goddamn wallet, but also drive to my house, walk inside, come to my room, knock on my door, and interrupt my peace of fucking mind and my reading and why are you here? Just-- why the hell?"

There. Just briefly, at the end, Karkat’s hard outer shell began to crack. It wasn’t necessarily a good crack yet, but it told John a couple of things: he didn’t seem to hate John, and he was probably willing to listen to an apology, if not accept it.

"I wanted to see if the owner was still around," John said, fumbling to pull the wallet out of his pocket. "I just wanted to check the picture of the ID, but it was-- well it was you and I. Kept it. Because you were already gone. You can’t trust Vriska with these things, she’d have taken all the money and credit cards." It was a lie, hopefully. Just something to give him an excuse to be here.

But no. That was stupid. He had an excuse. A reason. A real reason that might not actually be stupid.

"And I wanted to talk to you," John finally admitted.

At those words, Karkat’s shell cracked just a little more, though his scowl was still present, his edges softened, his shoulders dropped, his fists unclenched.

"Fine. Let me put on some real clothes, and we’ll talk," Karkat said.

It was the best thing John could hope for.

\--

John sat in the living room on an old, faded blue, faux suede sofa while he waited for Karkat to change, nervously eyeing the decor of the room. There wasn’t much, a strangely painted vase on a shelf that was occupied mostly by movies and video games, an older widescreen TV and a couple of game consoles and their cords spilling out of the shelves it rested on. There was a beat up oriental rug covering the biggest empty spot in the room, but it didn’t seem to want to lay completely flat, like it had spent too much time rolled up or cramped in one position.

There wasn’t much to tell John about who else lived there.

Karkat appeared in jeans and a sweater a moment later, almost shyly while still managing to be as annoyed and angry as possible, like an animal that’s just about had it with these humans poking at its cage all day.

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked, not sitting down.

"I know I’m five years too late," John admitted, feeling a bit clearer minded now, "but I want to offer an explanation."

Karkat looked sort of apprehensive at that, but perched himself on the arm at the end of the couch. "Who says I want one?" he asked. "You are assuming a lot of shit here, Egbert."

Ooh. The last name. John shrugged. "If you don’t, I can leave," he said. "You got your wallet."

"Ugh. Right. I guess I should say thanks or whatever," Karkat said, rolling his eyes. "I had to take the fucking bus and didn’t realize my wallet was gone until I was home and the library was closed."

"Yeah, I was there all day," John told him, smiling slightly. "I work there."

Karkat’s frown deepened. "A library? You were studying film," he said.

"I never finished," John said, shrugging. "I don’t know if I want to anymore. I mean, I could have gone back whenever and I just never did."

Karkat lowered himself onto the couch, closer to John now. "Look, I’m not going to beg you for answers," he said. "I tried that already, and I didn’t really get a single fucking clue. So either tell me or get out and--"

"My dad died," John said suddenly, a little too loud.

Karkat fell silent, blinking. Then--

"What the shit? Why the fuck did you never say a single word?" he asked sharply. "I was supposed to be there for you for that kind of crap, John! You never told me anything, you know that? I couldn’t even get in contact with your friends or family because you kept me separate from all that crap and I wanted to be-- you could have told me, back then. I could have fucking handled it!"

"It’s not about whether or not you handled it!" John told him, desperate now. "It’s about how I handled it! My dad got sick really quickly, they diagnosed him with cancer, but he’d been showing no signs-- he had lung cancer, it was everywhere. They found a tumor on a fucking whim!"

Karkat’s eyes went wide at that, and John continued before he could be interrupted. "He went in because he fell from a ladder and thought he’d cracked a rib," John said, looking away. "He was diagnosed and died in less than a month, he had no chance at all." He scrubbed at his eyes, tired and watery. "I didn’t want to tell you that he was sick because I was just-- with you, it was like I was living in this bubble where things were just great and nothing really mattered and I was happy and I didn’t want to ruin everything with that.

"Then he died, and my sister called and I just-- I didn’t handle it well, okay? I threw my phone at the wall, it shattered, so I didn’t even have my old contacts when I wanted to call you again. But I just had a breakdown. Jade came and got me, took me home and took care of me. It sucked for her, because she’d just gotten through taking care of our dad."

When John opened his eyes, Karkat was closer again, kneeling next to him on the sofa and not saying anything. It was unusual, a quiet Karkat. Even after all this time, John could tell he was one for long tirades. He smiled tiredly at his ex-boyfriend.

"I’m sorry I left suddenly," John said quietly. "I’m not asking for you to forgive me. I’m just asking for you to-- I don’t know. Know that I’m sorry, I suppose."

"I thought you were dead or something," Karkat said, voice very firm, yet quiet. "I called you and you didn’t answer, and for days you never answered or returned my calls or texts, your dorm room was empty and no one could tell me anything."

John blinked, and realized Karkat was telling him his side of the story. He stared at him with his blue eyes wide, and reached out carefully, putting his hand over Karkat’s. For a moment, he thought Karkat would shove him off, but the hand beneath his own relaxed after a few tense seconds, and John smiled hopefully.

"I couldn’t figure out how to get in contact with your family. I tried looking up your dad in the phonebook, there was one Egbert but the number had been disconnected-- I guess I know why now, at least." Karkat snorted in laughter but there was no humor in it. "I couldn’t find you. I started thinking I’d done something wrong. I hated myself, for a long time, because I’ve never been the happiest fucker on the planet and I doubt I ever will be but when I was around you I guess I could be a closer runner up."

John’s smile broadened, and for the briefest of seconds, he thought Karkat would return it with one of his own, but it was quickly squashed by furrowed eyebrows and a sharp downturn of his lips.

"But that was five years ago," Karkat said. "Five fucking years, you think I’ve been pining for you all this time?"

John’s smile faltered, and he withdrew his hand. "I thought of you, still," he admitted. "I dated one girl for a little while, but it never really went anywhere. I’m not going to say it was because of you, because it wasn’t-- she and I just didn’t click or whatever. But I thought of you. I was thinking of you right before I saw the wallet, even."

Karkat’s eyebrow disappeared behind messy bangs. "You-- really?" he asked. "You’re going to come up with that sort of shit? Trying to woo me again, Egbert, using my own movies against me, I can’t decide if that’s an asshole move or really sweet--"

"No! No, I’m not-- well, I’m not trying," John said. "If I’m flirting, it’s just because I miss you. I’m sorry."

"Look, you can’t come crawling back into my life with my wallet and your heart on your sleeve and just expect me to up and except you again like you didn’t just fucking abandon me!" Karkat said sharply. "That’s not how this is going to work and if you wantmmph!"

John had not let him finish. Something had taken over and made him grab the shirt of the shorter man, yank him close and kiss him, all teeth and his aim was a little low and it was awkward and awful and it was so much like the first time they kissed it made John’s heart ache.

Karkat seemed too shocked to actually do anything, like fix the kiss, return it, or shove John off him, so John released him after too short of a time. They stared at each other with shocked expressions, and John licked his lips. Karkat’s eyes flicked down to it briefly, and John felt his breath catch.

"You’re a fucking moron," Karkat said, scoffing.

"I’m your fucking moron," John offered.

Karkat kissed him.

\--

John’s first thought upon waking was about Karkat.

Well, no. His first thought was about the remnants of his dream, something about a car that he felt too cramped in and clowns that were also police officers. His second thought wasn’t even about Karkat. It was about the ray of light that was shining in his eye, shifting through unfamiliar leaves and curtains. It was softer, muted by the trees and the darker color of the curtains, and it wasn’t all together and unpleasant waking experience.

His third thought after waking was definitely about Karkat, though.

Karkat, who was laying next to him, his shirt missing and a purple mark on his neck, and his wide gray eyes staring at John. It reminded him of last night.

They hadn’t ended up talking much more after that. Gamzee had invaded the room and Karkat had dragged him upstairs for a bit of privacy, where they’d tried to talk about what Karkat was doing for a living these days (journalist, wrote film reviews for the local newspaper, it sucked, didn’t pay well, but he got to see all the free movies he wanted) and John finally found out what the 'SV' on the wallet was (Karkat's dad's initials, a used but sturdy wallet that had been passed on to Karkat when his dad had bought a new one) but they found quickly that keeping their hands to themselves was not an option and within minutes they had devolved from quiet discussion to kissing, curious fingers exploring new skin in familiar shapes.

They hadn’t had sex, not properly. Hands did the job nicely and John still had his pants on, jeans unbuttoned and unzipped and twisted rather uncomfortably around him.

It had been one of the best nights John had had in years.

"Morning," croaked John, smiling easily.

"Don’t give me that shit," Karkat returned. "What do you want from me?"

John glanced down at himself. He could see a hickey of his very own right above his left nipple, and he was sure his neck hadn’t gotten away scot-free. "Nothing," he said finally, turning his gaze back to Karkat. "Nothing you don’t want to give."

Karkat shifted, rolling onto his side. "What if I don’t want to give you anything?" he asked. "Why the hell should I? Last night was a fluke, it mmph-- fucking hell Egbert, you can’t just mmmph!"

John grinned against Karkat’s lips, kissing them gently over and over until they yielded beneath him, finally returning with a few kisses of his own.

"I know we can’t just go back to how we were," John said softly as the kisses ended. "Too much time has passed and I know I have to earn your trust again."

"Last night was a fucking fluke," Karkat repeated.

"A good one," John said. Karkat went still, and John leaned in, placing his lips gently on the other’s stubbly jaw, and he could practically Karkat melting, giving in bit by bit.

When John pulled away to look at Karkat, he was surprised to find the normally scowling man smiling at him. It was slight, just barely a quirk of the lips, but it was there, and it couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.

"It wasn’t a fluke," John decided, his fingers pressing gently at the bare skin of Karkat’s waist. "It was serendipity."

**Author's Note:**

> this is like, wow. so self-indulgent for me. not in a porny sort of way, just a really good feelings sort of way.
> 
> tumblr user notanowl was having a rough time so i did a thing for him because i love him and i want him to be happy and yeah
> 
> inspiration came from the word serendipity and early mornings.


End file.
